


empty when not

by ko_ebii



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: TW: Insecurities, TW: graphic depiction of eating disorders, please don't read if it will upset you!!, stay safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_ebii/pseuds/ko_ebii
Summary: the mirror is streaked with grime because he cannot bear to look in it. there are days where the devil possesses him and he feels the urge to scrub it as he has on many occasions his face, wishing and hoping his skin was clearer. he holds back.the mirror is streaked with grime because he is too weak to clean it. sometimes, irrationally, he tries to look in it and finds himself as he should be, covered in dirt. the price of his sin.mirror, mirror on the wall--how do i dispel this endless emptiness?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	empty when not

the mirror is streaked with grime because he cannot bear to look in it. there are days where the devil possesses him and he feels the urge to scrub it as he has on many occasions his face, wishing and hoping his skin was clearer. he holds back. 

the mirror is streaked with grime because he is too weak to clean it. sometimes, irrationally, he tries to look in it and finds himself as he should be, covered in dirt. the price of his sin. 

mirror, mirror on the wall--

how do i dispel this endless emptiness? 

*

"your posture," rook says pleasantly, "is two degrees off." 

"of course." 

vil shakes back his shoulders, testing the arch of his back, biting back ugly words. he smiles instead, waiting for more critique. 

"you should hold back on the dessert. it is--"

"unbecoming," vil finishes for him, unable to stop himself. "i am aware." his tone is careful, but he knows rook hears his displeasure in the distant narrowing of his eyes. 

"if you're aware, you should do something about it. don't you think so, dorm leader?"

"of course. you are absolutely correct," he says through his teeth. 

they continue to drink their tea, and vil pretends he doesn't suck his stomach in a little bit. he wants to talk, but knows the mood is spoiled, so he clamps his mouth shut. 

*

he doesn't hold back before the toilet. 

it burns like hellfire. it's almost like trying to regurgitate a knife. the pain is sharp, bubbling in the back of his throat as though he'd swallowed his own poison. it's pleasant, in a strange way, when the pain heightens, because he knows it is over. he knows he has succeeded. 

he is alone in the bathroom, but he stays silent anyway. he has acquired the skill of being able to vomit in such a way that no sound comes out.

it clamps down heavy on his shoulders the moment nothing else will surface to bite into his conscience. 

again. he did it again. he let it cycle back. he--

it's worth it, he reassures himself.

*

his classmates politely pretend not to notice the number of chewed pens he's been throwing away. they pretend not to notice the sound of his stomach in class. they pretend to believe him when he says he's tired because he hasn't gotten enough sleep. they pretend that his clothes aren't far too big for him. 

a small part of him hopes for someone to say something. to save him from it all. 

they know this, and say nothing. 

*

it is terrifying, this feeling. on days he eats more than he planned, he feels the urge to spiral again and force so much food down his throat he throws it up anyway. on days he eats less than normal, it feels good, but still the fear lurks. how long can he keep it up? how will he feel when he is no longer this thin? but he's not satisfied, is he? there's no way he's satisfied. 

the mirror is squeaky clean, and every time he looks into it he feels disgusted. 

sometimes he stands before it bare, and it's enough to make him taste bile in the back of his throat. enough to make him colour-code his food so he can tell how much he's thrown up. enough to count every single calorie, to be afraid of eating even a single scoop of rice. 

*

man wants what man cannot have. 

he wants to be beautiful and happy. 

happy he may be eating normally, but the next day when he stands on the scale like a prisoner about to be hanged, he hears rook hunt in the back of his head. 

_another kilogram, his voice says_ , and vil hears the click of his tongue, feels it like a hand to the throat. 

*

there are days he lies awake, fearing he won't wake up tomorrow. fearing if he doesn't heed the demands of his stomach, the acid lapping like a cat drinking milk, he'll waste away into nothing. there are days it scares him, the skeletal tilt of his legs, but he delights in the bumps of his ribs, the harsh angles of his shoulder bones. it is beautiful, and it hurts. 

it becomes his normal again to scroll through pictures of thin people on magicam. it makes him feel like he needs to push more. just another kilogram less, and maybe he'll be as good as those other people. maybe he's more beautiful than them, but if he isn't as thin as them it's all for nothing. he needs to feel that happy. 

it's his normal, but he knows it isn't normal, but then again everybody's metabolism is different, and of course he has his own nutritional needs, so maybe it's okay to eat less than what normal people eat. after all, beautiful people are rarely normal. and, of course, if it's his normal and he's fine, it must be okay. he must be okay. 

he makes excuses for himself and pretends they aren't flimsy.

he isn't happy. 

*

"your posture is perfect. i must commend you." 

vil smiles at rook, and can't find the words for what he wants to express. his eyes feel heavy. he feels heavy, but knows he can't be. the scale doesn't lie. 

of course it is," he chooses to say, masking the urge to shake and cry with false smugness. "i am not dorm leader for nothing." 

and yet he is hungry for more. 

rook says nothing of his weight for the day, and he wishes he would praise him. he took so much pain, and yet--

it's not enough, he decides.


End file.
